Son of the Lake
by sonofAvalon
Summary: Okay. First chapter of my first story. Please read. I am really bad at summaries. Present day Avalon. It has remained connected to our world by a thread. Only a few may now pass through the worlds. And they are desperately needed. Rated M for future chapt
1. Chapter 1

Son of the Lake

Rating: M for later scenes

Genre: Romance

SUMMARY: Okay. First chapter of my first story. Please read. I am really bad at summaries. Present day Avalon. It has remained connected to our world by a thread. Only a few may now pass through the worlds. And they are desperately needed. Rated M for future chapters.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of Marion Zimmer Bradley's characters. The plot line and original characters are my own. Sadly, I do not own hers. I wish I did. That would be one sweaty night!

A heavy breeze whipped across the beach, well lit from the full moon rising high above. A tall figure in billowing black robes, a hood pulled over his eyes, knelt in the middle of a circle of candles, herbs, and fruit. The wind blew strongly, but the ring of candles seemed unaffected. The wind picked up speed as a low deep chant began. As the chanting grew faster and louder, the tall figure stood, raising his arms above his head. Clouds crashed overhead, gathering quickly but never obscuring the moon. As he raised his eyes to the full moon, his hood fell, revealing ghostly pale skin, raven black hair, and piercing bright blue eyes. He raised his arms and spoke to the sky.

"Great Mother! Great Goddess! Maiden, Mother, Crone! I call to you, Cathubodva, as a child of your ways, a son of the Holy Isle! Mother, for it is Mother I need! I have lost the way! I am alone in this world where you are present, yet renounced in the same breath! Extend to me your glory! Show me the way back to Avalon, most sacred of your homes! Lift me from this world of the Christ, and back into ours, where the Virgin Huntress and Horned One rule! Return me to your graces! Help me!"

He was silent, pleading eyes focused on the full moon at its highest point in the sky. He stayed that way for a few long minutes, before lowering his arms and dropping to his knees, tears silently streaming from his eyes.

A misty fog rolled in at an unnatural pace. It accumulated around the circle, spreading fifty feet around the man.

"Rise, child."

With a start, the young man stood. He was caught with a pang of familiarity. Bowing, he used the greatest gesture of respect. Standing before him, as a powerful vision of the Sight, was the Lady of the Lake, Lake, the High Priestess of Avalon, and the voice of the Goddess on Earth. She was tall, but most of her features were distorted in the fog.

"My Lady! You are most unexpected, but I am honored by your presence."

"You called upon the Goddess, and it is her voice that answers. You seek the way back to Avalon, and I shall bring you there."

"Thank you, my Lady Morgan. I shall forever be in your debt."

"Yes. You shall, for upon your arrival you will be tested. Gawen has recently passed from this world and we are in need of a new …"

"What, Milady?"

"I have little time. Prepare yourself as I part the worlds."

The man quickly extinguished the candles as the Lady faded from view. He ran to the edge of the glass lake and clambered into a boat, using a pole to push himself into the middle of the lake. He slowed the craft to a stop and stood tall, the robes billowing around him as he stood in invocation.

"Use my strength, Lady! Let me help to spread the vale!" He raised his arms above his head, inverted his arms, and dropped them to his sides, crying the word of Power. For a second, it seemed as nothing would happen, and then the mist over the water parted, the full moon shining brightly on the Isle of Avalon.

"I'm home. I'm finally home."

He gave one hard push with the pole towards the island before he collapsed on the floor of the small boat. As it drifted slowly towards Avalon, the Lady Morgan ran to the waters edge, awaiting the returning man.

"He's home. Aydrian, my son. You're home."

**Thank you for reading this chapter. Please leave a review. Flames are not accepted, but constructive criticism is!**


	2. Chapter 2

Son of the Lake

Rating: M for later scenes

Genre: Romance

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of Marion Zimmer Bradley's characters. The plot line and original characters are my own. Sadly, I do not own hers. I wish I did. That would be one sweaty night! .

Ten minutes later, the small boat bumped against the shore. Two women, in their early twenties, rushed forward to pull the boat onto the shore, their long powder blue robes getting soaked to the knees. They smiled as they cut the ropes tangled around his feet, smiles never leaving their faces as they pulled him onto dry ground. They pushed their hair out of their faces, revealing powder blue crescent moons on their brows.

Aydrian stirred slowly as fresh water was dribbled onto his forehead, cool against the mark of the sacred feminine on his brow. He looked up into the face of Morgaine, a newly initiated priestess, and rumored to be of direct descent from the first Lady of Avalon. She was a beautiful girl, around five foot seven, long wavy black hair dangling to the middle of her back. She looked at Aydrian with admiring eyes, shining brighter green than anything of this world. She gave a small smile before stepping aside to allow Morgan, the Lady of Avalon, to approach.

With a small chuckle, Aydrian tried to stand, but his knees gave out, splaying him into a small pool of mud, his pants becoming coated in the murky filth. Morgaine gave a small giggle, to which Morgan replied with a stern look, standing to her full height.

"Morgaine! Do not amuse yourself with the misfortune of others! Go! Fetch our returning champion some water, a slab of bread, and the three best apples from yesterday's harvest! GO!"

"Yes, milady." Morgaine scurried away, pulling up the ends of her robes as she hurried to follow orders.

Two other priestesses came forward with a Druid-in-training who helped lift Aydrian into a nearby hut, the doorway draped with lavender. They carried him inside and laid him on a bed of heather, laying pillows under his torso to sit him up. Morgaine entered as he got comfortable, sitting on his left. She helped him to lift the goblet to his lips and sip some water. He smiled as she got up and went to a small table nearby, slicing and peeling the apples she had brought him.

"You remembered, Morgaine of the Faeries."

"Of course I did. But why do you still call me by that name? I am not as she was anymore. I am no small thing, Aydrian."

"You have her strength and her power. Even if you no longer resemble her, which I believe you do, you still remind me of her."

Morgaine laughed and went back to slicing the apples as the Lady Morgan entered, followed by an elderly man in light grey robes. He bowed to Aydrian as he reached the bedside.

"Why do you bow to me, Druid?"

"It is only fitting that I should, Venerable One."

"Venerable One? That title is befitted only to the Merlin. Why do you call me as such?"

"Gawaine named you his successor before he died. You have inherited his title. I now serve you, Messenger of the Gods."

Morgaine gave a gasp of shock and dropped the knife to the floor, where it clattered. The Lady sat by Aydrian's side, giving the news time to sink in. Morgaine brought over the bread, apple slices, and goblet on a tray in his lap. He drained the goblet and help it out to one of the novice priestesses to refill.

"Aydrian?" Morgan placed her hand over his.

Aydrian stood slowly, placing a hand on the Druids' shoulder to help him gain his balance. He walked slowly, making his way across the island and up the spiral ath on the Tor to the circle of stones at the top. He sat in the middle, gazing up to the stars. Morgaine walked over and sat next to him, placing a hand on his back.

"Are you okay? Is there anything I can do, Merlin?"

The air became unbearably warm as trhe ring of stones flared with power.

"DO NOT CALL ME THAT! I AM NO MERLIN! I am a simple Druid."

Morgaine moved back, now afraid of her childhood friend, him raging.

**Please review.**


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